


the streets are on fire

by wintercreek



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-19
Updated: 2011-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-17 02:59:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercreek/pseuds/wintercreek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Camelot is burning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the streets are on fire

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to were_duck for the early morning beta. She's a rockstar, as always. ♥

Camelot is burning.

Arthur tears through the castle, checking rooms and ordering chambermaids out to the river, to safety. The nobility are long since gone across the water. The knights are pouring buckets on the lower town, but it's devilishly hard to stop a fire when everything's made of wood. The castle itself will stand, Arthur's sure, but if the fire catches inside and jumps from tapestry to heavy curtain to wardrobe and bed — well, it would be best if everyone were out.

Merlin, damn him, is no where to be found. He's not gathering a pointless armload of Arthur's things or cramming burn salve into a bag in Gaius's chambers. He's missing, and Arthur has a horrible vision of Merlin napping somewhere and awakening to find himself trapped. He pushes it away in favor of bellowing at the kitchen staff until they abandon their posts. The head cook stays with Arthur to put out the cookfires, for all the good it may do.

Finally, Arthur leaves Camelot and heads for the river. He's on the verge of picking up a barrel-half and joining the bailing when it occurs to him that Merlin might be in the woods. He sometimes spends half a day out there, always claiming that he's gathering herbs. Arthur knows better.

Sure enough, Merlin's under a tree in a clearing on the hill, the one that offers a fragmented view of Camelot. He's in shadow; it must be light from the flames that makes his eyes glow, somehow. Arthur stops short of calling his name, unnerved.

Merlin turns that golden gaze on Arthur, and Arthur refuses to let himself turn away. "Merlin," Arthur says, feeling strangled.

"I need–" Merlin starts. The light dies out of his eyes and he's only Merlin again, stumbling forward and grabbing Arthur's shoulders in shaking hands. "I need your help."

"Yes, we've got to get back. I need to help my knights carry water." Arthur takes in Merlin's condition. "I can carry you, but we must hurry."

Merlin shakes his head. "No. I need your help _here_. Look, d'you trust me?"

Arthur frowns at him. "Yes, absolutely. But–"

"Okay." Merlin takes a deep breath and seems to square his shoulders. "Can you lift me up? So I can see the city. And, uh. This is going to sound stupid, but try to believe in me. Think about giving me your strength."

"Think about what?!" Arthur shouts, outraged. "Merlin, in case you haven't noticed, the lower town is on fire."

"Yes, thank you, I did notice," Merlin snaps. He mutters something that sounds like, "And I'm trying to do something about it."

Arthur can only stare at Merlin, who has possibly gone mad. "All right, let's get this over with." He kneels and gets Merlin sitting on his shoulders; with the aid of a tree they balance themselves as Arthur stands.

Merlin sighs. "Oh yes, that's perfect." He doesn't repeat any nonsense about Arthur giving him strength, just falls silent.

"What–" Arthur says before he hears Merlin quietly speaking in a strange language. He can't make out the words, but the hair on Arthur's arms rises and he nearly shivers.

"It's working," Merlin says, breathless. "It's working, _please_ Arthur."

The pleading in his voice makes Arthur's decision for him. He nods shortly, knowing Merlin will feel it, and pictures himself hand in hand with Merlin, a sort of glow moving from Arthur's chest to Merlin's. It's odd. Arthur can feel himself tiring, but Merlin isn't that heavy.

After long minutes Arthur falls clumsily to his knees. Merlin topples off altogether and Arthur collapses forward, the two of them making an untidy pile in the grass. When they've caught their breath, Arthur asks, "What was that?"

"I put the fire out!" Merlin grins.

"You did what? Merlin, was that magic?" Arthur scowls at him.

Merlin's face falls and he looks away. "I. I thought maybe. That you knew?"

Arthur can feel his eyes bugging unattractively. "That I knew? Of all the things that I cannot know, my manservant's use of magic is at the top of the list." He sits up and buries his face in his hands. Arthur, for reasons of his own, has been careful not to watch Merlin too closely. He wonders now if he missed this about Merlin in his determination to be less interested. Or did some part of him see this, too, along with all the small things Merlin–

The touch on his shoulder has to be Merlin. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to– I just wanted to help," Merlin says.

"To help?" Arthur lifts his head. "To help do what, exactly?"

"Stop the fire, of course." Merlin looks baffled. "What else would I be doing?"

Arthur doesn't say anything. He can't quite look at Merlin.

Merlin huffs and crosses his arms. "Fine." He stands and walks away, disappearing into the woods toward Camelot. Arthur watches him go.

*

The sun is low in the sky when Arthur walks into the lower town and finds his knights standing together, talking in low tones. "What," he demands without preamble.

"The fire, my lord," Leon says. "It stopped."

"Of course it stopped," Arthur snaps. "You poured water on it until it did."

Leon shakes his head. "Come and see." He shows Arthur the edge of the fire, the clean line where its advance had suddenly halted despite the ready presence of straw and cloth. The castle is untouched.

Arthur strides away, calling orders to assist the townspeople back to his knights. When he reaches the throne room his father is there, scowling.

"Arthur. What do you make of this?" Uther asks.

"I think we were lucky, father. Enough water must have fallen out of the buckets to soak the things that didn't burn. We might consider testing it as a strategy for future use," Arthur answers smoothly. When Uther turns away to ask Gaius's opinion, Arthur mutters, "And yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking." He has a sudden memory of Merlin's aside in the woods and wonders just how lucky they have been. How lucky he has been.

Uther seems willing to accept Arthur's explanation with Gaius's confirmation of the possibilty. Still, it's too long before Arthur can make his excuses and go in search of Merlin. The idiot is on the road out of Camelot when Arthur catches up to him, meager bag of possessions on his back. He has so little. It seems like a sorcerer would make himself rich and powerful; maybe Merlin's not one after all.

Arthur grabs him by the arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Away?" Merlin won't look at him, and it's maddening.

"You can't go away," Arthur says desperately, and something in his voice makes Merlin turn toward him. "You can't, because I didn't know 'til now how much." He clears his throat. "How much Camelot needs you. How much I need you."

Merlin lifts a eyebrow. "Yeah? And when the king sees how that fire stopped, how much will you need me then?"

"He saw it." Arthur's still holding Merlin's arm, hard enough that it must hurt. "I told him it must have been spilled water. I told him that we were lucky."

"And will I be lucky, the next time your father goes on a rampage? When the crop fails, or a lady of the court feels unwell, or he has a bad day?" Merlin isn't pulling away; that's something.

Arthur nods. "You will, I promise. I told you this afternoon that I trusted you, and you've never betrayed that trust. Now I'm asking you to have the same faith in me." He feels like an idiot, but he tries visualizing like he had earlier, picturing the blue that means fidelity in a coat of arms, seeing it flowing from his heart to Merlin's.

Merlin gives him a strange look that breaks into a tenuous smile. "You're getting better at that, you know," he says teasingly. "Turning into a regular sorcerer's apprentice."

"Uh." Arthur's shoulders twitch. He looks around for witnesses, but there aren't any.

"Too soon?" Merlin asks. His eyes are huge and, as usual, his 'innocent' face looks like a calf that's walked into a fence.

There's no help for it. Laughing, Arthur nods. "Too soon. Give me some time, Merlin."

In the silence that falls between them, Arthur lets go of Merlin's arm and reaches for his hand instead. "Will you come home now?" he asks softly.

Merlin looks at their joined hands and then up to Arthur's face. "Yeah, all right." When Arthur doesn't let go, Merlin adds, "Um, Arthur?"

"Maybe I've a secret of my own," Arthur admits. "But not just now. I can't–"

"It's okay," Merlin says as he squeezes Arthur's hand. "There'll be time in the morning."

They make their way back to Camelot in the dark, talking about nothing in particular. The castle is settling down for the night, and some people from the lower town, Arthur's pleased to note, have been accommodated in the great hall. Tomorrow he'll see about taking the knights out to help with rebuilding. Tonight he makes his way upstairs, Merlin in his wake, and when Merlin pauses in the doorway of Arthur's chambers Arthur tugs him in and says, "Stay." Everything else will keep.


End file.
